


Blood and Blue

by Runic (orphan_account)



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Arranged Marriage, Jotun Loki, M/M, Politics, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-29
Updated: 2013-10-16
Packaged: 2017-11-19 19:39:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 19,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/576908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Runic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Tony is called to New Mexico he never expected for humanity to be preparing for a war with Asgard. More than that, he never expected to find himself engaged to the Jotun Prince, Loki. Arranged marriage AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Blood on the Ice

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing. I used part of the script from Iron Man 2. Not claiming that either.
> 
> Title of the prologue taken from a side quest in Skyrim. (It just seemed to fit.)
> 
> Lastly, just an interesting note, kisu-no-hi’s Jotun Loki on tumblr is pretty much my headcanon for what he looks like. If you haven’t seen it you should really go check it out. Her work is absolutely beautiful. She does draw mostly Thorki as a warning. If you want to avoid that I can link you the comic she did that is relatively safe. (It’s still Thorki, but well not dangerously so. I don’t know how to describe it.)

Laufey stares out over the vast sea of ice. The warriors who had not been severely injured in the Odinson’s assault, including his youngest son Býleistr, labor to dig graves for their fallen brothers. The ice still responds to them with what little power is left. But Laufey remembers a time when this would have been a simple task, when the ice would have accepted the fallen with a ready embrace. Once the ice sang. Once Jotunheim was a world of music and beauty. Once, before Odin…

Loki’s sudden appearance beside him snaps the Jotun King from his reminiscence. “Odin has banished his son,” Loki says, knowing better than to waste time with trivial small talk.

Laufey turns his gaze from the warriors to his eldest, but he does not speak. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Býleistr notice Loki and make his way over.

“He was captured by a group of humans when he attempted to retrieve Mjolnir. The Odinson now sits powerless in their prison.”

“You have a plan.” Laufey does not ask. He knows. Once he had wanted to kill this runt, but Fárbauti’s tears had stayed his hand. Every time Loki’s plans succeed it reinforces his belief that the decision to keep his eldest was the wisest thing he had ever done.

“We need to move now, before Thor is accepted back into Asgard. The people who hold him now, they deal in secrets and shadows. I would ask that you allow me to go to them.”

“We should kill him,” Býleistr says in his soft voice, finally arriving beside his father and brother.

“And how would that help us?” Loki asks calmly, but his tone suggests that he thinks his brother an idiot.

“He should answer for our fallen brothers. Helblindi might yet die!” Býleistr protests.

“We cannot throw away the living to avenge the dead.” Býleistr’s shoulders sag when his father finally speaks. “You would have them aid us?”

“Yes,” Loki answers. “Asgard is too strong for us to stand against alone.” No one likes hearing those words anymore than Loki likes saying them. “We need allies.”

“And the cost?”

“More to them than us. More gain to us if we succeed.”

The meaning of those words go right over Byleister’s head, but Laufey knows his son’s mind. It is his mind, but mischievous where he would be cruel. The ultimate goal in this war, Loki’s ultimate goal, will be the Casket of Ancient Winters. The mortals will serve as a rather nice distraction.

“What will you tell them?”

“The truth.”

Byleistr snorts. “The truth? You?”

Loki shakes his head, a pitying smile forming on his lips. “That is why I am such a successful liar, brother. I know when to use the truth.”

/

“Reboot complete. You got your best friend back.”

“Thank you very much, Agent Romanoff.”

“Well done with the new chest piece. I am reading significantly higher output, and your vitals all look promising.”

“Yes, for the moment I’m not dying,” Tony responds. Although that’s not taking into account all of Vanko’s crazy drones. “Thank you.”

“What-“

Pepper’s voice is cut off suddenly, replaced with a far less friendly one. “Stark!” Fury barks.

“Little busy at the moment. Please call back later.”

“Stark, hurry your ass up and get to New Mexico.”

“Did I not just say I was busy?” Tony isn’t going to New Mexico. There is no way Tony is going to New Mexico.

“Yes, your little Expo disaster. Hurry and clean it up, and then get your motherfucking ass to New Mexico. We have a possible alien invasion.” Fury hangs up before Tony can respond.

Fuck, he’s going to end up in New Mexico after this.

“Your boss is an asshole,” he tells Natasha.

“Were you referring to Fury or yourself?”

“Tony!” Pepper cuts back in. “What’d you mean you were dying? What’s going on? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was gonna make you an omelet and tell you!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. I shouldn't be starting another story when I have two others going, but we kept talking about arranged marriage AUs on tumblr and this was the only thing my muse wanted to let me write. TWD is still my main project.


	2. Electronic Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coulson gets a call from Fury, but an unexpected visitor decides to join in as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for taking so long with this chapter. I am never going to try to write from Coulson's point of view ever again. Just no, no. (And now that I say that it'll probably end up happening quite a bit.)

“I was in the middle of an interrogation,” Coulson says in his usually neutral tone.

The agent stands a little straighter, but faces his superior without flinching. “I apologize sir, but a call came in for you from Director Fury. The video conference has been set up in the office.”

Coulson nods and heads toward the make shift office, knowing better than to keep Fury waiting longer than necessary. The moment he shuts the door Fury barks at him from the TV screen. “What is this about your prisoner not being human, Coulson?”

“We had agents in the town since we arrived. Sitwell happened to notice him as he was leaving the hospital, before he was hit with Miss Foster’s car.”

“Foster? The researcher you just visited?”

“Yes, sir. He appears to have spent a few hours with her, Erik Selvig, and a Miss Darcy Lewis, before his break in here. As soon as he was in custody I had Sitwell return to the hospital for his records. They had taken blood samples while he was unconscious, and our tests have confirmed that it is not human blood.”

“Are you sure they didn’t mix it up?” Fury does not seem to have much faith in the abilities of a small town hospital.

“Doubtful. Sir, it might be possible he really is an alien.”

Fury takes a deep breath before speaking again. “Great. I have half of New York being blown up at the moment thanks to a man who is supposed to be dead, and now a possible alien invasion.” One man is really not an invasion, but Coulson knows not to rule out the possibility of a scout. “Is that all you have on him?”

“There is one more thing.” It might be nothing, but one other thing Coulson has learned from this job, don’t ever think something is insignificant, because that detail usually ends up being the most important information available. “He was checked in as ‘Thor.’”

“Thor? As in the Norse god Thor?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Who goes around calling himself Thor?”

There is a soft chuckle that comes from the screen before it splits in half and a dark haired man appears opposite of Fury. Above him Coulson hears a soft thud that lets him know Clint is ready to swoop in if necessary. When Coulson looks again he revisits his thought of the man being well, a man. He is dressed in a formal black suit, with a green and gold scarf sitting loosely on his shoulders. But his skin is blue. Tribal symbols cover the skin Coulson can see, running down to be covered by the suit. His long dark hair has golden ordainments woven into it, and something tells Coulson they’re not just gold plated. 

“My dear Director,” the man says with a voice like silk. Fury’s good eye narrows, his hand resting on his gun. “He calls himself Thor because he is Thor.”

“And who the hell are you?” Fury demands.

The man takes Fury’s hostility in stride. “I am Loki Laufeyson, Prince of Jotunheim.”

Coulson recognizes the name of the realm of the Frost Giants immediately. (He knew that elective class in Norse mythology would eventually pay off, but no one believed him.) “You’re pretty small for a giant.”

Loki’s eyes turn to him, red and deadly. “Not a very original statement, Agent, but yes, I am a bit small for your average male Jotun.”

Coulson takes the word male and files it away for later contemplation. For now, there is something else he needs to be focusing on. “And what can we do for you, Prince Loki?”

Loki tilts his head slightly, his eyes loosing that deadly gleam. “I have actually come to help you, which will thereby help Jotunheim.” Well at least he isn’t hiding that he has another motive. “You see Thor is an enemy of Jotunheim. He recently led an unprovoked attack upon my people, and attack which has threatened war upon the Nine Realms. The last time this happened Midgard became the battle ground.”

Both Fury and Coulson are struck silent by that. “And why would you are about that?” Fury finally asks, his hand inching ever so slightly off his gun. “The legends all say you were the ones who attacked humans in the first place.”

Loki gives him a cold look. “Do you always accept the words of the victor, Director?” he asks evenly, although the tone sends a shiver down Coulson’s spine. Even after a thousand years it is obvious that the loss is still a sore subject. “Or do you take them with, what was the mortal saying, oh yes, a grain of salt?”

The Prince lets that sink in before he speaks again. “I have come on behalf of my father in the hopes that we can be allies. Jotunheim holds no grudge against Midgard. You were fooled once into thinking us enemies, we do not wish to fight you again.”

And there it is, the offer on the table. A war is coming and Earth will be forced to choose a side.

“You’ll understand if I don’t take your word for it,” Fury responds.

Loki scoffs softly. “Of course not. You may ask Thor. For all his arrogance and blood lust, the Odinson has an honest streak that will be his undoing. We of course realize an alliance between our two realms will not be reached within a few simple hours. But we do hope to limit Asgardian intervention upon Midgard. That is why I have come to you, one of Midgard’s secret defenders, first.”

“Coulson.” Sitwell opens the door without knocking, only raising his eyebrows when he sees the Jotun on the screen. “The same astronomical anomaly that happened forty hours ago happened again. The satellite picked it up, and it looks like we have four more visitors.”

Loki sighs and leans forward. All of the sudden he is coming through the screen and stepping into Coulson’s office. “That anomaly would be the Bifrost. It is how the Asgardians travel between realms.” Loki, now standing in front of Coulson, brushes nonexistent dirt off his lapels. “The four who came through it are most likely the Warriors Three and the Lady Sif. They will be coming to free Thor.”

“And what, you want us to fight them?” Fury growls, obviously not likely that Loki can travel between electronics. His hand is back on his gun.

“I am not here to tell you want to do, Director Fury. I am simply offering my assistance if the worse comes to worst, and you are forced to fight. You were barely able to take down one Asgardian, and he has had his powers taken from him. Do you really think you will have any hope against _four_ fully powered Asgardians?”

Fury knows he is right. Coulson knows he is right. Neither are about to admit it. “Besides,” Loki adds, looking up, “your little bird can always keep an eye on me.”

After a minute Fury barks orders at Coulson. “Send a team out to meet them. The blue guy can go, but _I want him watched **at all times!”**_ He pauses for a moment, calming slightly (as calm as Fury does get). “I’m going to call Stark and the Widow in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that is the first time I have ever had one scene take up an entire chapter.


	3. The Cold Desert

“As I thought, the Lady Sif and the Warriors Three. Where Thor goes they are certain to follow.”

“Not the best of friends I take it,” Clint says. He stands in the bed of a SHIELD truck, arrow knocked but bow not raised. Loki sits in the front seat, staring at the new comers in the side mirror, hidden from view should one look over. They are parked about 100 yards from where Sitwell and a group of agents are approaching the Asgardians. A van is parked near them, with another pair of vehicles 100 yards on the other side of the meeting ground, just in case backup is needed.

“No,” Loki answers, not quite covering the disgust in his voice. “They accompanied Thor when he attacked my people.”

Right, so no love lost there. Clint’s fingers tighten around is bow. “You’re not to make a move unless I tell you to.”

He keeps his eyes on the Asgardians who have just met with the agents, Sitwell’s voice offering them a greeting from the earpiece, but out of his peripheral vision he sees Loki roll his eyes. “You have no need to remind me yet again. I have offered my assistance, however you choose to use it.”

Clint doesn’t respond. One of the Asgardians had just made an angry gesture at Sitwell with his rather large axe. The other three have taken on aggressive stances. Behind him the agents place hands on their guns, but Sitwell himself remains calm. Clint sees Sitwell’s lips moving but cannot hear anything from the comm. “Sitwell?” Nothing. “Shit.”

“We’ve lost him as well,” Coulson says in his ear. Isn’t that just fantastic?

The archer turns on Loki. “Did you do this?”

“No, but I highly doubt you will believe me.”

“This is the most sophisticated tech in the world, and you’re an alien with questionable motivations. Of course I don’t trust you.”

“My, you Midgardians have certainly progressed if your technology no longer fails you from time to time.” The Prince shifts in his seat. His face is still hidden, but he looks like a tiger about to pounce. “It does not seem they have taken well to your attempt to stop them from reaching Thor.

Clint turns back, and indeed the situation has grown worse. The Asgardians have their weapons raised. In response the agents have drawn their guns, including Sitwell. The woman brandishes a sword at Sitwell, saying something that is very clearly hostile. Sitwell’s response is obviously the wrong one for the Asgardians as the next second Clint is releasing an arrow. It hits the vain looking Asgardian’s hand, knocking the rapier off course just before he can skewer Sitwell. Sitwell orders his men not to fire, but the Asgardians, already angry that they have been denied access to their prince, are done talking. The agents fall back behind their own vehicles and open fire. Clint curses when he sees the bullets do little damage, the large one not even flinching as he is hit before throwing one of the cars.

“All right, Frosty,” he pauses to lose another arrow, “you’re up.”

And then suddenly Loki is standing halfway between the truck and the battle. Giant spikes of ice suddenly shoot out of the desert ground, cutting off the woman and mace wielding Asgardian from attacking the agents. All four pause in shock when they turn as one to Loki. And then their faces contort with rage and hate. The woman shouts something and her and the blond run toward him, leaving the large one and the mace wielder to deal with the agents.

Clint jumps down from the truck bed and aims at the woman. She knocks the arrow away with her spear and keeps running. Loki throws a blade which is also easily blocked, but it leaves Clint an opening. His next arrow hits the woman’s right shoulder. It causes her to pause for a moment, but it definitely does not stop her. And then the Asgardians are on Loki. He dodges and weaves away from their attacks, his own offense in the form of ice shards. He makes the whole maneuver look like a dance rather than a battle. Most of Loki’s attacks do not land, but continue to give Clint openings.

He scores two hits on the blond before the Asgardian decides enough is enough and comes after Clint. He blocks the first strike, slamming his bow into the blond’s face, causing him to stumble back a step. But he quickly comes back, the strength of his blows rapidly wearing Clint down. His arms shake when the next blow comes, threatening to buckle. Just before they give out a spike of ice punches through the blond’s chest. He cries out in pain and the pressure drops away. The woman screams “Fandral!” as he drops to his knees, growling in hatred as she goes after Loki…

…Loki who had turned his back on her to save Clint. The archer reaches for another arrow, knowing there is no way he can lose it before he reaches Loki.

And then there is a sound in the air every SHIELD agents knows all too well. The Man of Iron suddenly lands heavily next to Loki, raises his glove and releases a blast from the repulsor. The woman goes flying back from the blast. The blond is at her side the next second, moving impressively fast for someone bleeding so heavily. He helps her up, but that seems to be the end of his strength as he has to lean against her to stand upright. The woman holds onto him tightly, still glaring at Loki, but they step away. She calls over her shoulder for the others and then they are in retreat.

Clint, breathing heavily, walks up behind Loki and lands a heavy hand on his shoulder. Loki stiffens under the touch, but quickly relaxes. “You are lucky, little bird,” he chuckles, “had you touched me a second sooner my defenses would still have been up and your hand would now be frozen off.”

“Okaaaay, good to know if we ever get in another fight,” Clint says, removing his hand. But the desert heat is pounding down on him and the cold felt so good. He leans closer to Loki, their arms touching. “I’m just going to stand right here.”

Loki chuckles again. “I am most enthusiastic to return to your base shortly.” It sounds kind, but there is an obvious order hidden beneath. And Clint can’t really blame the guy. The heat is bad for him, he can only imagine the effects it is having on Loki.

Stark takes off his helmet, looking at Loki appreciatively, with the slightest bit of hunger in his gaze. “Didn’t realize Neytiri would be here.”

Loki blinks at the billionaire and his brows furrow. “My name is Loki, not Neytiri.” His eyes travel up and down the suit, obviously judging Stark. “I would offer my thanks, but I do not think others would be grateful for the inflation to your ego.”

Stark grins at the insult, his eyes sparked with interest. He looks like some demented child handed his first death ray. “There are other ways you could thank me.”

Loki’s brows raise in surprise, although Clint doubts he _is_ actually surprised. “You are bold for a mortal.”

“I have reason to be.”

“All right you two,” Clint sighs, reluctantly moving away from Loki’s cool skin. “We’ve got reports to give, and Coulson will want to see you back at base, Stark. I for one am not about to piss off the guy who signs my paychecks by making him wait.”

“Good idea,” Coulson responds through the comm.

“See you at base, Stark,” he says pointedly to the inventor.

Stark rolls his eyes before putting the helmet back in place. “Yeah, yeah.” He waves them off and takes to the air, Clint unsure if he is heading for the base or Malibu.

He and Loki return to the truck, with a few agents whose own cars had been destroyed sitting in the bed. Sitwell stays behind to oversee clean up.

As Clint pulls away from the site he notices more ice littered around the battle field around where the Asgardians had first met with the SHIELD agents, quickly melting in the sun. He realizes that Loki had been protecting the agents even while fighting two enemies himself. Loki is the reason they did not lose a single agent today.

He looks over at Loki, failing to cover his surprise. The Prince just shrugs and begins to fiddle with the air condition. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to point out that it is not my goal in this story to make the Asgardians the villains, but to focus on the conflict caused by cultural misunderstandings.


	4. Terms and Conditions

“We got a visit from some of your friends.” For the first time since his incarceration the prisoner lifts his head to look at Coulson. “They would have killed my people if we had not been warned.”

“And who gave you this warning?” the large man asks, his voice weary yet cautious.

Coulson says nothing, letting the silence draw out. Finally he says one word, “Thor.”

The man’s eyes go wide and he sits straighter. “Who told you my name?”

“It was on your hospital chart, so you could say it was Miss Foster. Our informant also told us, and you confirmed it.”

“Who?” the man, Thor, repeats.

Coulson pauses again. The silence lets him judge Thor’s reactions, while the man also becomes more frustrated each time. “You know him. He says you attacked his people not too long ago.”

“A Jotun?” Thor asks. The speed of his response tells Coulson that there is at least some truth to Loki’s claims. “Impossible. They have not the ability to travel beyond Jotunheim.”

“Apparently at least one does.”

“This is who you turn to, who you ally yourself with? The Jotun are savages!” The words are spoken without thought, words that have obviously been said for years before now, ingrained into the Asgardian’s psyche. But Coulson finds the look of doubt that suddenly clouds Thor’s face interesting. He only just catches the murmur of, “I thought they were.”

“He wasn’t the one who tried to kill my agents. He even saved a few.”

Thor looks back down, his eyes flickering to the sides rapidly as he puts this information together. “They would not attack without provocation.”

“My agents tried to talk to them. Even if they said something your people would see as disrespectful, it does not change that they came to earth and acted with hostility. As did you,” Coulson adds.

Thor’s hands clench into fists, and his nostrils flare in anger. “What would you have of me?”

Another long silence settles between them, broken only by Thor’s heavy breathing. “I believe I have what I came for,” Coulson finally says. He shut the door behind him, leaving Thor to his thoughts.

/

“You two took your time.”

“Not all of us have technologically advanced suits of armor that allow us to fly, Stark,” Clint replies lazily.

The billionaire makes a tutting sound with his tongue. “Excuses, excuses.”

“It is your own invention then?” Loki interrupts.

Tony smiles brightly at the Jotun. “Of course, gorgeous.” He taps the side of his head. “All came from up here.”

“Fascinating,” Loki responds. From the tone of his voice Clint can tell he really does find it fascinating, but there is something else there…

“The Director wants your report immediately,” Coulson tells them, not even pausing his stride as he motions for them to follow. “He wants to talk to you two as well,” he says to Tony and Loki.

“Yay!” Tony fake cheers.

Clint rolls his eyes, Loki raises an eyebrow, and Coulson ignores him. He opens the door to his office ushering the others inside. Fury is already onscreen waiting for them. He simply looks at Coulson and the agent begins to speak.

“Sitwell is supervising the cleanup of the site. His initial report states that after the comms went out the Asgardians demanded to be taken to their Prince. When Sitwell told them that he could not release him at the moment they grew hostile. He told them again that it was not his decision when to release Thor. At that one of the Asgardians drew a sword on him, but was stopped from harming Agent Sitwell when Agent Barton shot the Asgardian’s hand.”

At this everyone looks to Clint. “I made a call,” the archer shrugs. He knows Fury has already seen the satellite footage by this point, and he really does not feel the need to elaborate on it.

Fury turns to Loki then. “There was a surprising amount of ice out there for a desert.”

Loki raises one of those elegantly carved eyebrows. “Should I have left your men to die? I am sure by now you have seen for yourself how ineffective your weapons were against the Asgardians.”

Fury growls and glares at the Jotun through his good eye. “This treaty you want, what are your terms?”

“Treaty? Are we going to war?” Tony asks. A look at the other faces in the room tell him that yes, they very well might be. He takes a deep breath through his nose, settling into a more serious attitude for a change.

“The terms are rather basic. If the Asgardian army comes to Midgard the Jotuns will come as well to fight with you. Should they push through the defense to Jotunheim Midgard will offer aid in the form of resources, such as medicines and food.”

“No soldiers?” Fury interrupts.

Loki shakes his head. “No. Jotunheim is a harsh land. Many of your soldiers would not fare well there.”

Fury nods and motions for him to continue.

“If there are any significant damages to property then we shall offer our aid in your rebuilding process.

“In addition, any treaties entered into with the Asgardians must have both a Jotun and Midgardian representative present to protect both party’s  interest. These are the main terms we will hold you to.”

Fury takes a moment to contemplate Loki’s words. “Those seem rather fair.”

“We are not the savages the Asgardians believe us to be,” Loki says lightly. “We see no advantage in mistreating our allies.”

“I don’t have the power to enter into a treaty with you. I’ll have to bring these terms to the President.”

“Of course.” Loki lifts his hand and makes a complicated gesture with his fingers. A coin suddenly appears between them, which he holds out for Coulson to take. “When you have your answer simply place the coin face down.”

“But there is one more thing, and this would be more for the benefit of my people than yours.”

“And that would be?” The hostility is gone from Fury’s voice, but his posture is still tense, showing obvious suspicion.

“Between the other realms when a treaty such as this is struck it is tradition that it be sealed through a linking of the two worlds, usually through adoption or marriage. From what I have seen it seems Midgard has a very different perception of marriage, but if this tradition was ignored my people would not understand. They would see it as a slight, as if you do not plan to take our alliance seriously.”

There is silence in the room when Loki stops talking. Clint is the one to break it with one word, _“Seriously?”_

Loki blinks at him, seemingly confused at the question. “Yes. And seeing as I am the one being offered up for this, I do hope you find someone at least somewhat interesting.”

Clint opens his mouth to protest, but Fury cuts him off. “You realize royalty doesn’t have all that much power in the world anymore? America doesn’t even have royalty.”

Loki shrugs. “Whoever it is will first have to be approved of course, but anyone powerful and popular with your people will do.”

“Gender matter?”

“Absolutely not.”

“No, absolutely not. No, no, no, nope, not happening,” Tony rambles. When Fury’s eyes had flickered to him the inventor had immediately followed the Director’s train of thought.

“Is that why you asked about gender?” Loki asks. The three humans watch in differing degrees of shock as the Jotun’s features begin to shift. “I have no disagreement with wearing this form for a time if it is more to your liking.”

Tony’s eyes greedily take in the curves of Loki’s female form before he shakes his head to snap himself out of it. “It’s not the form, beautiful, believe me. I’d love to be the only guy who could actually claim to have Captain Kirked an alien, but if it comes with marriage attached I’m out.”

Loki smirks as he shifts back to his original form. “And there goes all your bravado.”

“Agent Barton, why don’t you take Prince Loki to get a drink while Director Fury and I talk to Mr. Stark.”

Clint nods at the order, and shoves himself away from the wall he had been leaning on. “You ever played chess before, Frosty?” he asks, holding the door open for Loki. “Coulson always beats me, but that’s because Coulson scares the pieces into doing what he wants.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you we would get to the arranged marriage part in this chapter. *is proud of self*


	5. The Bigger Picture, Darling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've been gone for awhile. I started working on a one shot that turned out to be much longer than I had anticipated, and the thing with me and one shots is that once I start I have to finish it or I lose interest. 
> 
> I also happen to be kind of sick at the moment, so my editing skills are not at their best. But I didn't want to make you guys wait for it, so if you see any mistakes please let me know. :)

Clint stares down at the board in disbelief. “I refuse to believe you’ve never played this before.” There really is no move he can make to avoid a loss, but that does not mean he is about to tip over his king just yet. He moves his rook in a futile attempt to protect his king, glaring at the Jotun sitting across from him.

Loki smiles pleasantly before making his own move and calling, “Check mate.”

Clint throws his hands up and slumps back in his chair. “I don’t understand it.”

“You charge in, and yet you expect to protect all your pieces.” The Jotun holds a knight between his fingers, studying the plastic piece. “It is not a winning strategy for this game.”

“Have to be willing to make sacrifices sometimes, huh?”

“Sometimes,” Loki answers, setting the knight back at its starting position.

“And who are you going to sacrifice in all this?” Loki raises an eyebrow in silent question. “Look, I like you, you’re a pretty cool guy, no pun intended, and you saved my life. But I’m not going to just let you use these people, my people, as distractions. I want to know what you want from us. Why should we trust you?”

“Is there really anything I can say to convince you?” Loki asks, setting the board up again. “The Asgardians have kept my people under heel for more than a millennia. What I want is to rebuild Jotunheim, to restore our prestige with the Nine Realms. Honestly our interest in allying with you is so that you do not do so with Asgard. But that we offer so important a marriage contract to you should show how important it is to us that we do become allies.” His tone makes it clear that anyone who does not realize this is a moron.

Clint thinks for a moment before seeming to accept Loki’s words. He instead focuses on the issue Loki had just brought up. “You’re really okay being married to a complete stranger?”

“It has always been my fate to be a political pawn. I have accepted it. Besides, Stark seems interesting enough.”

Clint scoffs. “Oh yeah, interesting is one word to describe him. But Fury and Coulson are going to know their hands full convincing him. If it was anything else I’d side with Coulson, but with this my money’s on Stark.”

Loki chuckles softly. “Is it now? Perhaps I shall have to offer my own persuasions.”

Clint eyes him wearily. Finally he says, “I might have to make a new bet.”

This time Loki laughs fully, a true smile stretching across his lips. “Shall you? Stark may not wish to speak with me after this.”

“Oh now you’re being modest.” Clint can’t help but return the smile.

“I am always modest, Agent Barton,” Loki says with fake sincerity. “Come, I like this game. I wish to play again.”

Clint groans loudly before moving his knight. “Fine. Let’s do this.”

/

“No.”

“Stark-“

“No!”

Goddamn it, Stark!”

“I’m calling Pepper!” the billionaire threatened.

“And tell her that you are refusing to marry for not just the good of your country, but the world?”

“She’ll side with me. Pepper is a romantic.”

“Mr. Stark,” Coulson breaks in, “this is not a certainty. You will only have to marry if we enter into a treaty with the Jotun.”

Tony stays silent just long enough for Coulson to think maybe they’ll be able to get somewhere after all. “No.”

Coulson sighs as the shouting starts up again.

“I’m not some damn Disney princess!”

“No one is saying that! Those motherfuckers followed their hearts! This is the real world, you don’t get to do that.”

“I’m done.” Tony heads for the door.

“Stark!”

“Shove it, Fury,” he calls back.

Coulson does not go after him, knowing that right now anything he tries will just result in more yelling. When he’s done with Fury he will give Miss Potts a call before Stark can twist the situation. “We’ll have to try again later, sir.”

Fury took a deep breath, but did not order Coulson to drag Tony back. “Tell the Jotun we’ll call when we have his answer. Then prepare this Thor for transport. I want him in a secure facility.

Coulson nods. “Yes, sir.”

/

“Can you believe it, Pep? A fucking arranged marriage.” It is the end of a very long rant that Pepper has uncharacteristically sat through without saying anything. A sound between a sigh and a yell rips its way out of Tony’s throat as the man pours himself another drink.

Pepper sighs softly as she watches him, nails tapping against the StarkPad in her lap, and bites her lip. Coulson had called her to let her know Tony was on his way back, and about the rather strange situation he had gotten himself into. “Tony…”

“I know! It’s ridiculous! Who does that in this day and age? Well, okay it’s still practiced some places, but I’m _not getting married, Pepper_!” Tony whines.

“Tony,” she says more forcefully this time. “What are you going to do?”

Tony shrugs his shoulders, every muscle tense. “I don’t know; find someone else they can pawn off on this guy. We just found out Captain America is still alive. Let’s go with him! There, end of problem, everyone’s happy.”

“But Captain America has been out of the spotlight so long he doesn’t have the same influence he used to.” Pepper sighs. “And what about us, Tony?”

He looks down into his glass, shaking it to hear the ice clink against the sides. He had saved Pepper, flown her up to that roof, but nothing had happened. Aliens were attacking and he was needed, and wasn’t that the plot to some B rated horror film? So Tony had left Pepper and Rhodey on the roof and flown to New Mexico, where he’d supposedly gone and gotten himself engaged. “I don’t think there can be an us, Pep,” he finally says.

Pepper nods and stands up from her chair. “I’ll see what I can do about putting together a list of suitable candidates.”

“You’re the best, Pep.”

“You’re also giving me a raise,” she calls over her shoulder before the door shuts behind her, leaving Tony alone with his thoughts and his scotch.

/

Leaving Tony alone with his thoughts and his scotch might not have been the best move. He ended up throwing darts at a digital picture of Fury JARVIS had put up for him. He’d also bought a new sports car and a Rembrandt.

The next dart misses by a mile. Tony spins around when a laugh comes from behind him, his last dart slipping from his hand. Loki catches it in between his fingers with an amused look. “Good to see you again, Stark.”

“Sir, it appears we have an intruder.”

“Wonderful observation skills, Jarv. How’d you get in here?”

“Magic.” Loki waves his hand and the dart vanishes. “I thought perhaps to talk to you without the influence of SHIELD, but it seems all you have been doing is sulking.”

“Does that mean you don’t want to marry be anymore?” He’s halfway between hopeful and hostile.

“Do you know what marriage is to a Jotun?” As he stands Tony can’t help but stare, because Loki is seriously gorgeous. “From what little time I have spent here it seems marriage holds little significance to Midgardians.”

“Little?” Tony repeats in disbelief.

“One argument is enough to break up a couple. Adultery seems to be your pastime. You believe in love for an hour, but when the passion is gone you just give up. So easily are the bonds of matrimony shattered for you. Within the other Realms this is not so. Marriage is power. Marriage is the union of two forces. In a case such as ours, it is a union of two very powerful forces.”

“So it’s just about power to you?”

“Power.” Holy shit, when had Loki gotten that close to him? “Union.” Loki’s hand is cold against his shoulder even through his shirt. “And of course, sex.”

Loki’s lips are on his before Tony can think. He’s a force coming at him, and Tony doesn’t resist when Loki gives a little shove, sending Tony sprawling across his bed. The Jotun climbs on top of him, long legs straddling his hips. He never breaks the kiss, and it’s driving Tony insane. He feels his pants rapidly growing too tight.

Tony returns the kiss, passionate and vicious. He flips Loki over, the Jotun’s blue skin beautiful against his red sheets. Tony wants him, really wants him, but marriage isn’t worth it. If he can have Loki now he’s going to jump on that chance. He pulls back needing to breath, grinding their groins together.

“Do try to think about the bigger picture, darling,” Loki says, only slightly breathless. And then, Tony is suddenly alone on the bed.

“Shit! JARVIS?” Tony calls, eyes searching the room frantically. He swears he can hear that infuriatingly arrogant laugher next to his ear.

“He does not appear to be on the premises any long, sir.”

Tony sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. “Fuck,” he whispers up at the ceiling. The inventor forces himself off the bed and walks toward his bathroom, even though he is sure the cold shower isn’t going to help.

/

The demon rears up and growls as soon as Loki appears. The Jotun Prince does not even blink.

“Down,” the woman orders from her lounge. She occupies herself running her fingers through the warrior’s hair who leaned against her, his eyes open but unseeing.

“Karnilla,” Loki says sweetly. “I see you received my gift.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I really did end it there.


	6. Join Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longest chapter yet and it's filled with technical stuffs, so I just ask that you bare with me for a bit.
> 
> If parts of the discussion between Loki and Gullveig seem familiar to anyone it is because I used a few lines from the discussion between Gullveig and the Herald in JiM #642. The parallels were too much for me to resist. I do not lay claim to it at all.

The Norn Queen glances dully at the Jotun Prince before her gaze goes back to Balder. “I wanted Balder, not his husk.”

“If I had not placed him under this spell he would now be in Asgard sparing not a thought for you. And if he fought for the Allfather, which noble Balder of course would do, I would be forced to kill him.”

Karnilla’s eyes snap to Loki, her features etched with fury. “You dare threaten him in my presence?”

“Sometimes facts are threats, my dear Karnilla.”

“I am not your dear anything, Loki,” Karnilla retorts with less hostility in her voice than before.

“Of course you are. Why else would I give you the means to keep one of my enemies safe? I assure you when this war is over I shall remove the spell, and then you may craft whatever story you wish to tell precious Balder about the fate of Asgard.”

Karnilla stays very still for a moment, her cheek resting against Balder’s head. Finally she holds her hand out to Loki, and the Jotun Prince kisses the air just above her skin. “You may tell Laufey he has my support on the terms previously discussed.”

“You are too generous, Queen Karnilla.”

Karnilla shakes her head at the empty, pretty words. She takes her hand back and waves it dismissively. “Go, make your other deals. Turn the realms against Odin and the arrogance of Asgard.”

Loki bows with a grandiose sweep of his arms, a wicked smirk on his lips, and disappears.

/

“It has been some time since you have graced us with your presence, Loki.”

Loki steps out of the shadows, unsurprised that Gullveig had sensed him. He waits patiently for Gullveig to make the next move. He knows he is testing her by appearing in her chambers uninvited and without notice.

“How is my sister?” the Steward of Vanaheim asks, pouring herself a cup of wine. She does not offer one to Loki.

“Freya is in mourning,” Loki answers, not needing to fake the grief in his voice.

Gullveig stills suddenly, slowly turning to the Prince with wide eyes. “You don’t mean..?” she trails off in a horrified whisper.

“I am sorry, but I cannot bring you words of comfort. Your nephew was killed during the Odinson’s attack.”

Gullveig takes a sharp breath in through her teeth. She faces the window, looking out over the kingdom she has been entrusted with. “Why was I not informed of this earlier?”

Loki had expected the Steward to redirect her anger and he has prepared for it. “Because those with the power to traverse realms have been needed.” He pauses, adding drama to what he will say next. “We are going to war, Gullveig.”

“With Asgard?” She shakes her head. “They will destroy you.”

“Not if the Realms stand against them,” Loki counters.

“You wish Vanaheim to fight with you. We made a peace, Jotun Prince.”

“You once fought Asgard.”

“And they defeated us! Odin took my sister as his ward in payment for our loss!” Gullveig turns to Loki, unable to hide her anger any longer.

“Vanaheim has another chance.”

“What is different this time?” She manages to reign in her anger, her face cold.

“This time you will not stand alone. This time Asgard is isolated by its arrogance. We fight for the same thing, Gullveig. This time we will reclaim the future of our realms. What say you to the future?” Loki’s voice, expertly trained, grows more excited with each word. Make Gullveig that think he needs her; make her think that she has the power in this deal.

The corners of her lips turn upward ever so slightly. “I say ‘aye.’”

/

He travels to Svartalfheim next. He has no illusions about the dark elves love for his people, but they also do not hold many positive feelings for the Asgardians either. He does not have to wait long before Queen Alflyse materializes out of the shadows, the golden bat wings of her helm glittering in the darkness. “My soldiers say I would be justified in kill you.”

Loki is unaffected by the hostility in her voice. He bows to her, not low, but still acknowledging her position. “Queen Alflyse, I have come with a proposition for you.”

“We have no desire to have dealings with the other Realms.”

“You will not even hear what I offer in repayment?” The innocence in his voice seems to irk her.

“Say what you have come to say and leave.”

“As you wish. A war is brewing between Jotunheim and Asgard.”

“There has always been war brewing between the two realms. I hope you destroy each other. Then we will finally be left in peace.”

Loki continues as if the dark elf Queen had not spoken. “If you offer your support to Jotunheim in this war then when it is over we will help you in your fight against Malekith.”

“Do you realize how many problems that deal presents us? Firstly, who would protect my lands from him while we are gone? Secondly, many have tried to conquer Svartalfheim before. What is to stop you from attempting to do is if we simply invite you in. No!” She makes an angry dismissive gesture. “Malekith is our problem to deal with.”

Loki bows again, knowing he will not gain an ally here, not that he had much hope of doing so. The feuds between Svartalfheim and the other Realms are too ingrained and long standing. “Then we shall leave you in peace.”

Alflyse studies him for a moment before her features soften. “If that is true, Prince Loki, then it is greatly appreciated. You may rest assured that neither will we be offering aid to Asgard.” With that she fades back into the shadows.

/

Mephisto pouts when Loki’s skin shifts from blue to pale. “I do so enjoy your Jotun form. Why will you never wear it around me?”

Loki can feel the toll of his numerous journeys starting to weigh on him. He knew he should not have saved Mephisto for last. But he wears his smirk well, seating himself on the arm of Mephisto’s throne. The demon places a hot hand against his thigh. The touch would have been too painful had Loki worn his Jotun skin. “I may enjoy my true form, but I enjoy teasing you.”

Mephisto grins. “Mmm, you do, but what I truly enjoy is making you squirm.”

“Thus the Midgardian form.” Loki does nothing to remove the demon’s hand. “Enough foreplay. I have come here for business.”

“Do you really think I’ll join with the Asgardians against you?” Mephisto laughs deeply. “Those, what is the Midgardian term, oh yes, blowhards would never ‘lower’ themselves to making a deal with me.”

“That might have something to do with you continually trying to steal their Prince’s soul,” Loki says lightly.

“You would think they’d be over that by now.” He chuckles this time, his hand traveling further up Loki’s leg. “What deal do you offer, Prince of Jotunheim?”

“The souls of the traitorous Midgardians.”

Mephisto’s eyebrows rise in mock shock. “Were you not attempting to make an alliance with them? I heard a rumor that you might be engaged soon.” The demon pouts again, his fingers rubbing circles through the cloth of Loki’s pants. “I must say I was rather distressed to hear so.”

“He is only a mortal. Even if the Midgardians agree to the alliance he will not live long.” Loki finally reaches down to stop Mephisto’s hand from traveling any further. “And if they do agree there will be those who cling to their myths and side with the Asgardians. If they were to suddenly, let us say, lose track of their souls, we would of course be distressed, but there would be others matters we would have to concern ourselves with. And if they do not agree to the alliance, well then, no one would complain if you and Hela were to fight over them all.”

There is the slightest bit of a smirk on Mephisto’s lips at that. Free reign to steal souls without interference is a rather tempting offer. Loki can see the demon mulling it over. He removes his hand and lets Mephisto’s own slip up to his hip. No need to ruin a deal by being prudish. “I might be interested, if you were to include something a little extra.”

Loki leans in close, close enough to feel Mephisto’s hot breath against his face. “The souls, Mephisto, that is all. I am about to be a married man after all, either way the Midgardians decide.”

Mephisto sighs and finally removes his hand. “Such a waste.”

Loki looks down at his nails, nonchalant about his next statement. “If it makes a difference, I have yet to offer Hela this deal.”

The demon’s eyes gleam with greed. Free reign to steal souls without interference _and_ without competition from the Queen of Hel, now that is an irresistible offer indeed.

/

He draws in a lungful of frigid air, his mask slipping now that his feet are set firmly back on Jotunheim.

“You have been busy my son.”

Loki turns at the sound of the soft soprano voice behind him. Dressed in the furs of white wolves, every inch a queen despite the state of her kingdom, Fárbauti smiles down at her first born. Loki returns the smile, his first genuine one since the Odinson’s attack. “Mother.”

Fárbauti opens her arms, folding Loki in her embrace as she had done when he was a child. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist having Loki and Mephisto flirt a bit. Also, I really do like Alflyse, but I don't think that came off very well. :/


	7. The Lady Freya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long to get up. The Council scene just really did not want to be written.

It is a long time before Loki pulls away from Fárbauti, his movements heavy with reluctance. “I must report to Father.”

Fárbauti takes a deep breath as she stands back to her full height. “I hope you know what you are doing.”

Loki smiles, a touch of bitterness seeping into it. “You have only ever said that to me once before.”

“Do not think Odin will have forgotten about that. He will not underestimate you this time. Speaking of…” She looks out over the ice to the fresh graves of the victims of the Odinson’s wrath. “She is there again. Go talk to her, she needs you right now. You have some time before the council meeting.”

She walks off, leaving Loki no time to argue. Not that he would, he just hates to see Freya in pain. The Prince heads across the ice, his feet silent against the snow. It does not take him long to reach the graves and the figure cloaked in heavy furs. Freya, former goddess of love and beauty, now member of Laufey’s court, has long been Loki’s closest friend and confidant. He had forced Odin to honor part of his deal with the Builder after his brutal murder, and brought Freya to Jotunheim. She had given herself to Geirröd in order to save Loki after the Prince had carelessly let himself be captured while in the form of a hawk, and he had arranged for Freya’s own escape once he was free. Loki had stayed by her side when she had birthed Geirröd’s child, and through the battle afterwards over who would raise the boy. And now he will be there for her while she mourns the death of her son.

“Do you hate me for bringing you here?” he asks.

“It has been a long time since you last asked me that.” Freya adjusts the white fox fur on her shoulders, clutching it tighter around her figure. “It makes me feel old, grasping at the memory of youth. But no, you are my cousin, my sibling, once a lover, always a friend. My heart could never hold hate for you, Loki.”

Loki weaves his blue fingers with Freya’s pale ones, raising them to his lips and placing affectionately soft kisses against each. “This will end, Freya.”

“But not without more death.” She looks back to the graves. “I am so tired of death.”

“Which is why it pains me so to ask for your help.” It is not a lie. Loki never seems to be able to lie to Freya.

“Nevertheless you shall have it.” This time Freya lightly brushes her lips against each of Loki’s fingers. “They will not take you from me.”

Loki lets a soft smile cross his face. “Come, my old friend, we must not keep my father waiting any longer.”

/

They are the last into the Council Room. Twenty-two chairs sit in a circle, their backs melding into tall, spiraling columns, leaving the floor, decorated with a depiction of Ymir, open. Opposite from the door is Laufey’s throne, raised high by two steps to sit higher than the rest. Fárbauti and Helblindi sit on the step below him.

Loki sees Freya to her seat between Býleistr and Vafþrúðnir, Laufey’s most trusted advisor. When he passes Helblindi he gives his brother a hard smile and a nod, which is returned, a silent sign that Loki is glad of his brother’s swift recovery, before taking his own seat between Fárbauti and Thrym. Laufey’s greatest rival has grown too powerful to give him any lower position. Geirröd also claims a place in the circle, brought as Thrym’s council. The only other player present Loki considers of remote importance is Hrungnir, Captain of the general army.

“It seems my son has met with some success,” Laufey begins. The Jotun King does enjoy allowing vagueness to creep into his words.

“Nornheim and Vanaheim will stand with us, as will Mephisto, although we would be wise not to place too much trust in him. Svartalfheim remains neutral, as we thought they would,” Loki reports.

“What of Niffleheim?” Hrungnir asks. “Will your daughter lend us her aid?”

“My daughter’s concern, as ever, is with the dead. She will not move unless it benefits her realm in some way.”

“And the dwarves will give some semblance of aid to Odin when he calls on them,” Fárbauti adds.

Freya speaks next. “My brother will give Alfheim’s aid to the Allfather. There is no doubt of that.”

“And no one is stupid enough to involve Surtur in this matter,” Laufey says. Even after millennia his rasping voice has the ability to silence a room and capture attention. “It seems then that the lines are drawn, save for Midgard.”

“Midgard?” Geirröd scoffs. “What use have we for the mortals?”

 “Do not underestimate them,” Loki warns. “The Midgardians have grown while the other realms have seen fit to ignore them.

“They are debating their answer,” Loki addresses to Laufey. “I believe they will likely wish to discuss the terms before committing to an alliance.”

“And you would take advisors with you,” Laufey finishes, again understanding his son’s unspoken meaning. “Who?”

“Lady Freya.” No one is surprised at that. “Lord Thrym.” That one fills the room with shocked whispers. It is no secret of the plans Thrym has for Loki, nor the royal family’s contempt for the other Jotun. But Laufey, like Loki, understands what it means to send Thrym on this mission.

“Who else?”

Loki hesitates, only for a moment, but it is still noticeable. “Queen Fárbauti,” he finally says.

Laufey’s eyes narrow slightly, studying the look that passes between his Queen and their eldest child. The King’s first instinct is to say no, to keep his Queen at his side, but that look holds a silent plea for Fárbauti’s skills. She has always had the ability to trick people in compromises. She is hard and strong, but gentle and understanding. Fárbauti is the perfect person for Loki to take with him if he wants to show the Midgardians the Jotun are not the savages of myth. “Very well,” Laufey relents. “When the Midgardians have their response the four of you shall collect it.”

/

“Rhodey!”

Rhodey stands over him and sighs. “How long have you been drinking?”

“When did Pepper leave?”

“Three days ago.”

“Then three days ago.”

“Tony,” Rhodey groans. “Enough.” He takes the glass from Tony’s hand. The billionaire was barely holding onto it in the first place.

“Hey!”

“You’re expected at a meeting tomorrow.”

“So?”

“With the Secretary of State and the U.N. Ambassador. I have no idea what’s going on, but I was called out of an important mission to collect you, so you are not missing it.”

“Fury’ssss trying to marry me off like some Disney princess to an alien,” Tony slurred. “A hot alien, well actually cold, but he’s beautiful, and I want to fuck him, or her, sometimes he’s a her.”

Rhodey just stares at him. “I really hope you’ve gone insane.”

Tony sighs, curling up as Rhodey places the covers over him. “I hope so too. Good night, Rhodey.”

“Night, Tony.”


	8. Low Manipulation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of semester so close. Going crazy. Send help.

Laufey always feels as if he is stepping into a child’s dollhouse in which the builder could not decide on the size of the furniture when he steps into Loki’s rooms. It is not so uncommon a thing considering the vast array of sizes and shapes Jotun come in, but never before has such a small child been born into the royal family. He is through the entry in one stride, skirting around the table in the large study, before coming to Loki’s inner and most private chambers.

He catches Loki in a rare moment of vulnerability, his eldest slumped in a chair beside the cold burning lamp that lights the room in sleep. Laufey takes a heavy step back, the sound echoing off the walls and announcing his presence. This time when he reenters the inner chamber Loki is sitting up straight, red eyes wide and alert.

If Loki had known Laufey had seen him in such a state he would have been horrified with himself. Fárbauti would be the only person allowed to see Loki’s weariness, or possibly Freya, but even then he would still be annoyed. For this reason Laufey decides not to tell his son to take the rest he so desperately needs. It would only spur Loki into working harder, into thinking he has not done enough in his father’s eyes. They have come to care for one another as father and son, but concern has never had a place in their relationship.

“Thrym is not pleased with you,” the King greets.

Loki scoffs. “Of course not. He could not rightly refuse the assignment without seeming the coward, and now he must leave his plans in the hands of his son. Geirmarr has not even a quarter of his father’s charisma.” Loki slides gracefully from his seat and walks from his inner chambers to his study. He takes the decanter from the table and pours the liquid into two glasses, handing the larger up to Laufey who has followed his son. “He hides behind tradition and ‘niceties,’ but only a fool would believe Thrym’s goals did not lie in the direction of your throne.”

“That did not keep you from his bed.” It is said as a fact with no hint of accusation.

Loki is silent for a long moment, raising the glass to his lips in order to make the pause seem more natural, but Laufey can tell none of the liquid passes his lips. “It bought us much needed time,” the Prince finally answers. “And now he cannot make his move until this war is over, which means his soldiers are ours. If he does go forward they will abandon him for causing strife when there is a much more dangerous enemy to fight.”

“And this mortal you have engaged yourself to?”

Loki smirks, but there is a trace of worry in his eyes. “I had worried you would be angry with me.”

“I learned long ago the benefits of placing my trust in you.”Laufey drains his glass, still waiting for an answer.

“There is one I was presented with, although he did not seem fond of the idea himself.” Loki’s head tilts to the side ever so slightly. “He is…not what I had been expecting.”

“He intrigues you,” Laufey translates.

Loki chuckles softly, almost as if in mockery of himself. “You could say that, yes. We want this mortal on our side.” He does not need to say more, the fact that Loki endorses the man at all says everything.

On the table, a perfect replica of the coin Loki had given Coulson, begins to glow a soft blue.

/

Tony finds himself in a room with Fury, Coulson, the Sectaries of State and Defense, and the U.S. Ambassador to the U.N., as well as a few more important people he considers to be not so important, at some ungodly hour. The day hasn’t even reached double digits yet.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Fury starts, somehow making the greeting sound like an insult in only the way Fury can, “we know why we are here. You’ve all been briefed on the situation, so let’s not waste any time.” Before anyone can protest Fury flips that strange silver coin over, setting it on the surface of the conference table with a loud clink.

Nothing happens. People start to lose their reserve, the stillness of the room breaking as everyone turns to offer looks at their neighbors ranging from concerned to annoyed. Tony overhears someone say, “What was that about wasting time?” Oh wait, that was him. Coulson sends a hard glare his way.

Just when the Secretary of State opens his mouth to shout at Fury (and oh how Tony’s curiosity is peaked as to what the outcome of such an encounter would be) the temperature in the room noticeably drops. Tony can actually see the energy racing through the air, chilling their breaths and raising goose bumps on their arms. And then the air is quickly sucked to the side of the room where there is an open space. Ice crystals have begun to form by the time Loki just steps out of the ether, followed by who has to be the absolutely most beautiful woman Tony has ever seen.

He finds it difficult to tear his eyes from her, but the next visitor demands just as much attention. She is nearly twelve feet tall, blue skin the same shade as Loki’s. There are four horns on her head, the bottom two long and curling back, nearly hitting against her shoulders, the top two much smaller and only begin to turn upward before they end. She is dressed in what Tony is guessing to be white silk. Like Loki there are gold ordainments woven into her hair, gold chains on her clothing, gold jewelry around her neck, arms, and wrists. There is really just a lot of gold in the room at the moment.

The last visitor looks like a fierce warrior. He is dressed in white furs, the left side of his chest left uncovered, showing off the marking that cover his body. He carries no weapons, but Tony knows from years of dealing with the military that this is someone who has commanded men and demands respect. There’s also the fact that his head brushes against the top of the ceiling, making him close to sixteen feet tall.

“Director Fury,” Loki grins, a clever smile playing on his lips. “You called.” Tony definitely has to give the guy credit for showmanship.

Loki’s red eyes slide across the room, taking in everyone without lingering, not until they reach him. Maybe it is testament to just how much Tony wants to fuck that clever, manipulative creature, but his heart begins to beat faster and he is unwillingly recalling the feeling of Loki beneath him.

Loki smirks, just for a moment, just for him. The bastard knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone wondering why only the U.S. is represented right now, it's because they have not yet decided what to officially do about the Jotun, and do not want to present the deal to anyone else yet. How serious do you think they'd be taken if they were like 'Hey, England, we got a visit from some aliens?' At least that's my reasoning. (Please before anyone yells at me, take note that I did say 'right now.')


	9. Sex Talks With the Best Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is longer than the rest (not that I think anyone will complain), but I just couldn’t cut it off sooner. XP

To say Frigga is displeased when Sif and the Warriors Three return with news of the Jotun Sorcerer helping the Midgardians would be an understatement. The Queen of Asgard sits upon the throne, fury radiating off her very being. Her fingers tighten around Gungnir until her knuckles are white.

"It appears we have no choice." Her voice is even and full of power. "Thor's powers will be returned to him. His exile has ended." As much as she wanted her son to return she knew the dangers of undermining the Allfather's latest order as her first act. But she is correct, Asgard needs her Prince.

Gungnir bangs against the floor and the order is passed.

/

Ever since Afghanistan Tony has tried to be a better person. He has realized his own failings, and yeah, he's broken and fucked up, but he's not that person that doesn't care anymore. The old him would have tuned out all the logistic talk of how much in supplies were to be given, and the petty squabbles about treaties with other countries. The new him, well he thinks if there is going to be a war they're all screwed because the politicians are still going to be arguing.

Okay, maybe the old him would have been listening too, if for completely different reasons. Old Tony would have been worried about contracts and how much he could sell, at least until he got bored and shoved all the work onto Pepper. New Tony is worried about defense and getting everything into place before a war breaks out.

And he should probably stop thinking about what the old him would have been thinking because he just tuned out a good fifteen minutes of conversation, and staring at Loki the entire time. From the side long glance Loki is giving him the Jotun knows he hasn't been paying attention. The fact that Loki makes him so angry and horny at the same time might very well drive him crazy.

Ian Shuwmer's, the Sectary of State, stomach lets out a loud growl during the exact moment when there is one of those natural pauses in the conversation. Beside him the U.N. Ambassador, Mariel Owens, turns her head to the side to hide her laughter.

"Perhaps a short rest would be in order," Loki suggests, an accommodating smile on his lips.

"Well I'm certainly not going to say no," Ian says, patting his stomach. Tony is pretty sure nothing can embarrass that man.

"I am curious as to your Midgardian cuisine," Thrym says. His voice reminds Tony of the beginning rumblings of an avalanche.

The meeting breaks down into a much more relaxed atmosphere. Ian and Mariel talk to Thrym about food. Mark Carroll, the Secretary of Defense, just kind of stares in awe of Fárbauti. Tony decides to stretch his legs for a bit, checking his email on his phone. If it keeps him from looking at Loki that's just a coincidence.

He wanders out into the hall, away from the chatter, so when someone else walks out as well their footsteps echo off the walls. Tony raises his eyes to see long fingered hands clutched in front of their owner . Freya has lost the heavy wolf fur cloak she had been wearing, now clad in a thin white dress. "Uh, hi?"

She smiles at him, but there is a slight edge to that smile. "So you are Anthony Stark, Loki's potential fiancé."

"Ah," Tony responds, understanding immediately. "You're the best friend then."

"That I am."

"Is this the 'hurt him and I hurt you' talk?"

Freya's laugh is full and lovely, one of those laughs that make others smile when they hear it. "As you will discover, Loki is fully capable of taking care of himself. I am merely curious as to what about you has caught his interest."

"Everything," Tony says immediately. "I am the real most interesting man in the world." Freya obviously doesn't get the reference, but she still laughs again. Tony decides he likes her. "But that whole fiancé thing, uh, that might not happen."

"Oh?"

"I'm not the marriage type."

Freya tilts her head to the side, staring at him long and hard. "Did you know that when I was a ward of Asgard I was known as the Goddess of Love?"

Tony is a little confused by her response. Yeah, he knows, he'd read up on the myths after Loki's visit, but he doesn't know what Freya's former title has to do with anything. Unless...okay no, he is absolutely not going down that road.

"All right, change of topic." He pointedly ignores the way Freya's lips twitch upwards. "What's up with Thrym? He keeps looking at me as if he'd like nothing better than to step on me."

Freya chuckles in a way that does not reassure Tony in any way. "That is the least of what he would like to do to you, I suspect. Loki has a dual purpose in bringing Thrym. The one concerning you is that Loki is showing you your competition."

"My competition?"

"Yes. If Midgard does not enter into a treaty with Jotunheim then Loki will marry Thrym. He is Laufey's rival, but he has become a powerful player within Jotunheim's political structure. In order to keep him appeased Laufey will have to give Thrym Loki."

"That doesn't sound like a good idea."

Freya sighs and shakes her head. "No, it is more a tactic to buy time than anything else. This situation has been building ever since Jotunheim's defeat, and this war will bring it to a head. If we lose, Odin knows he cannot afford to have Jotunheim descend into chaos. The death of one world would compromise all the others."

"And Thrym has made himself the best candidate for king after the royals."

"Exactly, and with Loki at his side those who do not support him now will still accept him."

"And if you win?"

Freya shrugs. "He has some plan, Thrym always does, but I could not guess at it. At the very least he would be taking Laufey's beloved son to bed every night."

"Yeah, about that, how does that..." Tony pauses as he tries to phrase the question, stopping his hands while they are halfway through making a crude motion, before he just decides to just say it, "size thing work out? I mean, isn't Thrym kind of too big to fit inside Loki?"

Freya nearly doubles over with laugher, tears springing into her blue eyes. She looks over to Tony, who is grinning like a mad man, and covers her mouth as she attempts to regain her composure. "Yes, I am beginning to see it." She takes a deep breath and schools her face into a mask of calm, although there is a spark of laughter left in her eyes. "Something you must understand about Jotun is that they come in all shapes and sizes. For there to be a couple of such difference as Loki and Thrym is not so strange. They are, ah, large yes, but also skilled at taking care of their smaller counterparts." She adds softly, almost as if she cannot help doing so, "Most of them at any rate."

Okay, there is history there Tony is not willing to delve into. "I'm still trying to picture that...kind of."

"Hmm, but you keep being distracted by thoughts of Loki?" She graces him with that knowing grin once more. "You might want to be more subtle about where your gaze lands, and stays, if you wished to keep such interests secret."

"I'm just going to ignore this part of the conversation. And I am a master at subtly!"

The former goddess actually snorts at that. "I am sure."

"And I will demonstrate it to you, after I ask you this. You've been around Loki for a long time. Have you two ever slept together?"

Freya blinks, her head tilts in confusion. "Of course. It is not such a strange thing for friends to share a bed."

"Ah, no, I meant-" He cuts himself off when he sees her smirk. "You're messing with me."

She laughs again, holding her hands up in surrender. "Forgive me, but you made it rather easy. Yes, I have 'slept' with Loki, although he was not a _he_ at the time, so I could not give you details on his manhood, if that's why you were asking."

Tony really likes Freya. She isn't afraid to talk about things Tony likes, like sex. If he does marry Loki...wait, did he just think that? No, no, nope, still not going to marry Loki. Oh, and now he's just worked himself up, and oh this is not good.

"I believe they are almost ready to start again," Freya says gently, knocking him from his freak out.

"Uh, actually, you know, I've got a company to run. I must cut my consultation hours short today." That knowing look Freya keeps giving him is really unnerving. "It's been a pleasure, Lady Freya."

She nods in acknowledgement. "Mr. Stark."

/

Tony groans, his body slumping against the seat as Happy finally starts the car. He's going to go home and get drunk so he can forget about a certain obsession he seems to be having with a hot blue prince...or maybe indulge in it, he hasn't decided yet.

"Running, are we?" that smooth voice says so close to his ear.

Tony is convinced he has started hallucinating Loki's presence until Happy shouts, "Who are you?"

He groans again, rubbing at his temples in a vain attempt to dissuade the oncoming headache he feels forming. "It's okay, Happy. I'm just going to put this up now." He presses the button to raise the divider, cutting off Happy's shout of, "Tony!"

"I must say, I was rather disappointed by the lack of your appearance when the discussions began again," Loki says sweetly, a mischievous grin on his lips.

"I am the light of everyone's life," he tragically laments, smirking a bit when Loki rolls his eyes. "But shouldn't you be there? I can get away with it. You, not so much."

"Oh, but I am there, at least in appearance."

"Right, magic," he says flatly.

"You do not believe in magic, Mr. Stark?"

"Tony. And no, I believe in science."

"Perhaps the two are closer in nature than you think."

"Yeah, I'm going to need to run some tests on that before I believe you."

He is a bit taken aback when his lap his suddenly full of Loki, those wonderfully long limbs wrapped around him in a cold embrace. "On that, or on me?" he whispers, his voice absolutely sinful. "Your politicians talk, but say nothing. They are horribly boring. I was relying on you to keep me entertained." His hand slides down the length of Tony's arm, guiding the inventor's own hand to the inside of his thigh. "Freya told me of your discussion. Would you not like to discover such things for yourself?" Tony opens his mouth to respond, but Loki guides his other hand back to squeeze one of those perky ass cheeks, and oh, he might very well be outmatched in this little game, but that doesn't mean he isn't going to play. "I know I would."

Tony smirks before quickly leaning forward, capturing Loki's surprised lips. The Jotun makes a muffled noise of protest before leaning into the kiss, quickly deepening it. Hands are everywhere exploring each other's bodies. Hell, Loki even manages to get a hand inside Tony's pants, causing the inventor to lean back and moan as cool fingers tease the tip of his cock.

And then the world shudders. Thunder rolls overheard. Tony has heard people call thunder deafening before, but they've obviously never heard it like this. Loki pulls back, his face dark. "I must go." And then he vanishes, because he does that, and it annoys Tony so goddamn much.

"Happy, what's going on?" Tony asks as he lowers the divider.

"You might want to see it for yourself, boss."

Tony opens the car door, immediately feeling the electricity running through the air. The breath is almost knocked out of him by the pressure that is _there_. And then he sees it, and he has a horrible heart sinking feeling. There is a literal tornado of lightning taking place in a location it really should not be.

He pulls out his phone and calls JARVIS. "Jarv, please tell me that's not what I think it is."

"I apologize for this most grievous of news. The electrical storm is coming from the Raft, sir. The prison's structure has been damaged, and is now severely compromised."

The Raft, where the worst super villains are held. The worst of the worst are about to escape back into the city. And worst of all, Tony knows exactly who is responsible. This is it, and there is no way to avoid it. This is what the history books will call the beginning of a new war."Jarv, I'm going to need the suit."

"Right away, sir."

"I also need you to send a message to Fury."

"And what shall it say?"

Tony still hesitates for a moment, but he is the new Tony, and the new Tony saves people. "I accept."


	10. Snow and Thunder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this took me forever. *is ashamed*

It is the first time Steve has been out in the field since he woke. There is a lingering feeling of strangeness, and not all of that can be attributed to the new uniform, but if he’s honest with himself, this is the best he has felt. This he knows how to deal with.

He has already taken down one escaped prisoner, and helped SHIELD agents evacuate civilians, when he sees her. A beautiful blond woman, in a thin white dress, stands in the middle of the street staring up at the lightning tornado. There is something about her that makes Steve pause for a minute.

But he has a job to do, and he can’t stand here wondering about her. “Excuse me, Miss, I’m going to have to ask you to move. This area needs to be evacuated.”

The woman turns to him, blond hair shimmering and eyes mirthful. Steve feels pinned under her gaze. “Are you worried for my well being, mortal?” She laughs softly. “You are sweet, but you need not do so. I am here to help you.” The woman’s body glows gold. When it dies down she is covered in gold armor, a spear in hand. There is a necklace around her throat that Steve isn’t sure if it is just glowing, or if it is on fire. A cloak of falcon feathers hangs from her shoulders. Behind her is a chariot pulled by two oversized cats. In all, she’s not a woman Steve would want to mess with.

The woman steps onto the chariot and holds a hand out to him. “Come, Captain. I believe we have work to do.”

Steve hesitates for a moment, but Coulson’s voice in his ear tells him that Freya is on their side. He takes her hand and that chariot takes off, into the sky. Steve grips the chariot tightly, and the woman laughs at him, the wind blowing her golden hair back. And he thought he had seen everything.

/

Tony, thanks to his ability to fly, is the one who gets the privilege of engaging Thor. He officially adds flying through a lightning tornado to the list of things he never wants to do again. At the center he can finally see Thor, and yeah, the whole Norse God thing doesn’t seem like such a stretch anymore. The man’s armor bulges under ridiculous muscles. The lightning is finally dying down, being draw to Thor and his hammer, which for once isn’t a Tony Stark innuendo. Well shit, this isn’t going to be easy.

“Hey! Muscles!” Tony calls out. “You just released a bunch of prisoners that are now destroying the city. What part of that is supposed to make us think you aren’t our enemy?”

“It was unintentional!” Thor shouted back. Wow, if Tony hadn’t just seen the display of lightning, he would have said Thor became the thunder god because of how loud his voice is. “It was simply a consequence of my powers returning.”

“Bullshit,” Tony snaps back. “Doesn’t excuse the fact that you put civilians in danger, Big and Blond.”

Beside him, Loki materializes from nowhere. “Tony, watch out for-”

“Jotun!” Thor growls. Electricity crackles around the hammer, and his blue eyes turn to steel. Tony sees immediately that he has been trained so long to see a Jotun as an enemy that seeing one now will send him into a battle frenzy. Sure enough, Thor raises his arm and throws the hammer.

“Move!” Tony shouts, shoving Loki out of the way. The hammer hits him square in the back, and damn that hurts! The electricity crawls over his suit, making Tony grit his teeth against the pain.

Tony goes flying back, the suit trying to deal with the sudden increase of power. Before he can crash into a building someone catches him. Tony forces his head up and looks right into Fárbauti’s eyes. It is like looking into the middle of a blizzard, and it makes Tony very glad he is not on the receiving end of that look.

Fárbauti brakes apart into a million pieces of snow. They all go flying forward, towards Thor. Thunder crackles around the Asgardian, but it does nothing to slow down the snow from cutting into Thor’s flesh. By the time Fárbauti reforms Thor is bleeding heavily, his arm shaking ever so slightly. The Jotun Queen breaks apart for another attack.

“Are you all right, Tony?” Loki is beside him, looking way too amused to be concerned.

“Yeah,” Tony answers, only offering the Jotun Prince a quick glance before refocusing his attention on Thor. “Remind me never to piss off your mom.”

Loki chuckles, and it’s really unfair that it sounds like fingers ghosting over Tony’s flesh. “Wait until you meet my father.”

“Right,” Tony sighs. What the hell did he go and get himself involved in?

Thor roars loudly, his hammer smashing into Fárbauti’s side. The queen slams the palm of her hand into Thor’s nose. There is a loud crunching noise, letting Tony know the blond’s nose has been broken. “Excuse me,” Loki says. The same dangerous look that was in Fárbauti’s eyes is now in Loki’s, and Tony sees right then and there how much Loki has taken after his mother.

Loki is suddenly behind Thor. He rams the butt of an ice spear between Thor’s shoulder blades. At the same time Fárbauti clamps a hand over the Thunderer’s face and he goes slack in her grip. Tony flies around a bit to get a better look. Thor hasn’t passed out, but he certainly is dazed.

Loki says something to Fárbauti, which causes Thor to growl. The Jotun Queen pulls her hand back with a scream when Thor’s lightning attacks her. He falls a few feet before he gains control of himself again. “Run home, Thor, before you cause any more damage,” Loki taunts. They should probably have a talk about not taunting people who came break Tony like a twig.

Thor opens his mouth to respond again, but Fárbauti, another Fárbauti grips his head again. This time when Thor goes limp, he stays that way.

“So,” Tony says slowly, “that’s done.”

“Yes, and now there’s the matter of where he will be imprisoned,” Loki adds.

“Ugh, more politics,” Tony groans.

Loki chuckles softly. “You are marrying a prince, Stark. You will have to become used to it.”

“And fast.” Fárbauti moves closer to them, still holding Thor’s head like some broken doll. “Since you agreed, you will have to meet Laufey and gain his approval before the engagement becomes official.”

“Do not worry,” Loki purrs. “It is more a formality than anything, seeing as my mother approves of you already.”

Fárbauti smiles at him, but the kindness is mostly negated by the fact that she is clutching a _man’s head_ like it’s an orange.

“Well, I am loveable,” Tony laughs, a ting of nervousness to the noise.

“It seems as if there are still other fights going on,” Loki sighs, as if he is horribly upset by the incompetence of the Midgardians.

Tony smirks. “Bet you I capture more escapees than you can.”

Loki grins back at him in a way that sends a shiver down Tony’s back. “And what exactly do I receive when I win?”

“ _If_ you win, Princess.” Tony takes off without really answering, Loki hot on his heels.


	11. Bow to the Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case anyone forgot:  
> Ian Shuwmer: Secretary of State  
> Mariel Owens: U.N. Ambassador  
> Mark Carroll: Secretary of Defense

As far as Tony is concerned, Loki is a cheat. They had been tied when they went after the last criminal whose location SHIELD had provided them with, and just as Tony was about to bring him down, Loki had leaned in for a quick, searing kiss, and stolen his capture. Loki threw him a cheeky grin, teleporting the prisoner back to SHIELD’s secure headquarters, that was currently acting as a prison, leaving Tony to shout at the sky, “I’m going to wipe that smirk off your pretty face, Princess! Just you watch!”

Of course, as soon as Tony walks back into the meeting room where the politicians are still waiting, he can see Loki isn’t in the mood to play games. In fact, Loki looks more serious than Tony has ever seen the Jotun. (Granted, he hasn’t seen all that much of him, but the point still stands.)

“Thor is a prisoner of SHIELD!” Fury is shouting. “We are not turning him over to you.”

“And you think you can hold him now that he has his powers back?” Loki counters. “That did not work out for you very well, as you just saw.”

The room descends into a scene from Lord of the Rings, with everyone yelling at everyone else. Well, except for Fárbauti, who just looks exasperated that she has to deal with everyone acting like children.

“Oh my, this does not look good.”  Tony looks over his shoulder to see Freya, and the reawakened Captain America beside her. “What, exactly, are they fighting over?”

“Who gets custody of Big and Blond,” Tony answers, watching as Loki’s eyes spark at something Coulson has just said. “As you can see, it’s not going well.”

“Nothing is going to be solved if they keep at it like this,” Cap says, stepping forward.

Freya places a hand on his arm to hold him back. “Wait.”

“But-”

Freya shakes her head. “Trust me, Captain.”

The Captain looks torn, but as Fárbauti stands, the arguments drop off. Her very presence radiates authority. Tony has met royalty before, but this is something new. This is a woman who has been Queen for millennia. Power, and its uses, are written into her very blood. All she needs do is level that steady, disappointed gaze on the gathering to remind them of that.

“Thor cannot stay here. You have seen only the barest hint of what the Thunderer is capable of. _Before you protest,_ ” Fárbauti says sharply, cutting off the objections of those stupid enough to open their mouths to cut her off, “there is a solution that should appease both our worlds. Jotunheim has the resources to hold Thor, so he shall come back with us. However, his hammer Mjolnir, as much a prize as Thor himself, cannot be moved from where it fell, and therefore must remain under your protection. I believe your organization was already running tests on it,” she directs to Fury, “so you should already have some idea of its power. Jotunheim will swear off all claims to Mjolnir, and unless your interactions put our world or people at risk, we shall not interfere in whatever ways you wish to use it. This arrangement will also give us both the added safety of having Thor separated from Mjolnir.”

No one says anything, but the room is loud as everyone process what Fárbauti has said. Shuwmer, Owens, and Carroll look between themselves, having a silent conversation so efficiently that one would almost think they discussed deals with alien royalty every day. Finally, Shuwmer answers for the group. “You present a compelling argument, Queen Fárbauti, but we will need time to discuss it.”

“Of course,” Fárbauti replies. “Until then, however, Thor will remain in our care.”

Shuwmer’s jaw gives a little twitch, but after a moment he nods sharply.

“Before we depart for the day,” Loki’s voice cuts through the room, his calculating demeanor back in place, “I must also bring up the issue of who will be coming back to Jotunheim. The treaty can be finalized here, but in order for it to be considered binding, it must be presented to my father. I would also remind you that this treaty is extended to more than just your country.”

“We’ll have to call an emergency session,” Owens says. At least one politician is being reasonable, and not fussing over having to share right now, Tony thinks. “Are you limited to how many people you can take back?” the U.N. Ambassador asks Loki.

“I will need to take Tony Stark and Thor back, so not more than four,” the Jotun Prince answers.

Owens’ brow furrows. “That’s putting us in a tight spot,” she mumbles to herself. “All right, I’ll organize the meeting. Shuwmer and Carroll will inform the President, and we should have answers for you in the morning.”

“That is acceptable,” Fárbauti answers, and with that the meeting begins to disperse.

Tony catches Loki’s arm to get his attention. “So, uh, that thing about me going to Jotunheim…”

“I did say you would need to meet my father,” Loki says, mock innocence in his voice. It doesn’t fool Tony for a second.

“Ha ha ha. No, seriously, I can’t-”

Loki sighs, effectively cutting Tony off by taking a step closer, pressing their chests together. “Yes, you can. Your CEO runs your company, and SHIELD has others to take care of any troubles.”

Tony decides to play along, hands going to Loki’s hips and pulling him even closer. “Are you saying I’m replaceable?”

Loki gasps, a look of shock crossing his face. “Mr. Stark! I would never!” Tony’s fiancé, and oh that is the strangest thing he has ever called anyone, leans forward to place a kiss on the tip of his nose. “Do you really think I would settle for replaceable?”

“Definitely not. You’d only settle for the best.”

Loki smirks at him. “I am glad we understand each other.” The Prince spins gracefully out of Tony’s embrace, winking, _actually winking_ , at Tony before making his way over to his mother and Thrym, who are discussing methods on how to hold Thor.

“A word of warning-”

“Jesus shit!” Tony hisses when Freya’s musical voice comes from right beside him. “What is it with the sneaking up on people?”

Freya smirks at him, while Captain America gives Tony a disapproving stare. He seems to be following the goddess like some sort of oversized puppy at the moment. “Most of you mortals simply aren’t that perceptive.”

She pats his shoulder sympathetically. “As I was saying, you should know that Jotun consider engagements as binding as marriage.”

Tony feels his stomach drop. “So, what you’re saying is that, as far as Loki is concerned, since I agreed to marry him, we’re as good as actually married?”

“That is the basis of what I was saying,” Freya supplies. “If I were you, I’d avoid doing anything that could be perceived as a…rejection.”

Tony sighs, running a hand through his hair. “This just gets better and better.”

/

Once Loki and Fárbauti have placed their spells on Thor, Thrym is the one set to guard the Asgardian Prince. It is a simple decision, but one that will change the course of the war.


	12. My Interest is Conditional

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry I haven't been updating as fast as I was before. Unfortunately my personal life isn't leaving me with a lot of time to type. This chapter is kind of on the shortish side, but I wanted to give you guys something.

“Did you buy out the entire store?” Rhodey only half jokes as he stares out at the equipment littered around Stark Tower’s communal living area.

“I’m going to a winter wonderland. The last thing I want to do is freeze to death,” Tony answers, keeping most of his attention on the equipment. “I’d be fine if I stayed in the suit all the time…probably…most likely…but what are the chances of that being rude?”

“Wow, you must really like this guy if you’re so worried about meeting his dad.”

“I’m _marrying_ the guy, Rhodey! And not in the ‘I love you and want to spent the rest of my life with you way.’ No, this is the ‘our worlds are going to war, so let’s hook up for political reasons because apparently the rest of the “Realms” haven’t moved on into the modern age.’” Tony makes a retching noise as he compares two sets of gloves.

“Did you even breathe while saying all that?” Rhodey leans against the doorway and settles in to watch, knowing better than to try and help.

“Probably not. Argh!” Tony goes flying backwards when a blue face suddenly appears inches from his own. “Stop fucking doing that! You’re going to give me a heart attack!”

Loki merely clicks his tongue in disapproval. “If you keep talking like that, I might end up feeling hurt.”

Tony stared at the Jotun, completely unamused by the laughter in Loki’s eyes. “Yeah right. Besides, if you give me a heart attack, you’re going to have to find some old geezer with an over inflated ego, and not an ounce of my charm, to marry instead.”

Loki pouts as he settles himself in Tony’s lap. The movement is so fluid, Tony doesn’t realize what has happened until Loki is already pressed against him. “Hi,” Tony says slowly, hands unconsciously going to Loki’s hips.

“Hello,” Loki purrs, burying his face against the crook of Tony’s neck. The cool sensation of Loki against his skin makes him shiver.

“And I’m just going to go for the door,” Rhodey says, reminding the two of his presence.

Tony tries his best to look sheepish. Only, on Tony Stark, sheepish doesn’t look all that apologetic. “Sorry, Rhodey. Hey, gorgeous.” Tony pats Loki’s back, hands moving back to rest just above the curve of his ass. “This is my best friend, Rhodey. We like him, okay?”

Loki lifts his head enough to set his chin on Tony’s shoulder instead. He graces Rhodey with a smile, completely pleasant and devoid of mischief. “Hello, friend Rhodey.”

Tony sees Rhodey’s Adam’s apple bob.

“Yeah, know exactly how you feel, buddy.” Loki’s eyes flick to Tony in confusion. Tony isn’t fooled for a second.

Rhodey clears his throat even while rolling his eyes at Tony. “Uh, hi. Actually, I should be leaving. I need to get back to the assignment I was on before they pulled me away to make sure you weren’t becoming a truant.” Rhodey pushes off the doorframe and starts for the exit.

“We are not in high school!” Tony calls back, unable to actually twist around to watch Rhodey go with Loki on top of him.

“Be good, kids!”

“Bye, Rhodey!” Tony calls after, a smirk on his lips.

Loki curls back up against Tony. “All right, there is something we need to talk about.”

“Hmm?” Loki hums into his neck.

“What’s with the lovey dovey stuff? I mean, not that I mind being pressed up against you or anything.”

Loki lifts his head again, this time to meet Tony’s eyes. His red eyes flash in what Tony can only call possession. “You are mine, and the world will know it.”

Now it is Tony’s turn to gulp while drowning in those crimson pools. “You really want me.” His voice drops as the realization washes over him. “There’s more motivation behind this than just lust.”

Loki tilts his head to the side, seemingly confused that Tony did not already know that. “Of course. I would not have been so insistent in having you if it was a matter of simple lust. I would have had you, and that would have been the end of it.” Loki’s slim fingers come up to grasp his chin, forcing Tony to keep looking at him. “Do not mistake this. What we have is not love. You are interesting to me in a way no mortal has been for quite some time. I wish to keep you to myself until I am able to unravel you.”

Tony takes a deep breath in through his nose, using the moment to allow him to think. “And when you have? What, do we just get a divorce or something?” How did he never notice Loki towering over him before?

“If you becoming boring I will leave.” Loki leans in close enough for his breath to brush over Tony’s lips. Tony can feel Loki’s hardening cock pressing against his stomach, and yeah, Tony’s in a similar situation. “But I do not believe that will happen.”

Tony forces himself to smirk. “Not on your life.” One hand reaches up to the back of Loki’s head, brushing against his horns and drawing forth a soft moan. Damn, he needs to hear that again. He pulls Loki forward, crushing their lips together. There’s a war for dominance, and Tony is pretty sure he loses, but Loki’s tongue is in his mouth and at some point he ended up pressing Loki against the carpet.

He leaves Loki’s lips, moving down to nip at the Jotun’s jaw line. But as soon as he presses the lightest touch to Loki’s neck he’s being forced back, struggling for air as cold fingers wrap around his throat. “Never,” Loki growls softly, “ _never_ touch my neck again without permission.”

Tony nods as best he can. It takes a moment longer of Loki glaring at him, making sure that Tony does in fact understand, before Tony is released. He drags air into his lungs, sitting back on his heels. “Shit,” Tony says hoarsely, rubbing at his throat. “Do I get to know what that was about?”

His answer is a glare. The moment is obviously ruined, nothing like his finance trying to choke him to do that. “You do not need all this.” Loki nods to the gear Tony has set out. “My magic will protect you while we are in Jotunheim.”

“Hey.” Tony’s brow furrows, his tone turning sharp as he allows himself to become angry. “What-”

But Loki is gone, and Tony is left swearing at an empty room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The thing about not having a lot on Jotun culture in canon means I'm making most of it up as I go. It's really fun actually.


	13. More Talks With the Best Friend (This Time Featuring the Mother)

“Explain something to me.”

Freya’s smile becomes guarded as her brow furrows. “Is that a request or a demand?”

Oh, right, goddess. Tony keeps forgetting he’s dealing with people who are used to being worshipped. “Request?” When one of her eyebrows arches upwards questioningly, Tony adds, “Definitely request.”

Freya waves her hand at the open chair, inviting Tony to sit. All he had heard over the past four days was that there had been a delay in their departure to Jotunheim, due mostly to an argument over just who would be going. It doesn’t surprise Tony, but the extra time has given his mind nothing to do but replay and theorize about the whole neck incident. Tony had finally given in and arranged a meeting with Freya, who had wanted to meet in a coffee shop of all places. “What would you ask of me, Tony Stark?”

Tony waits to answer until the barista has set Freya’s order before her, along with a large cookie she had ordered for Tony, and asks if they need anything else. Freya thanks the young man but responds in the negative, and Tony almost feels sorry for him. The goddess’ smile is a powerful and enchanting force.

“Is there something weird about a Jotun’s neck? Or was that just a Loki thing?” he finally asks once the young man has practically floated off.

Freya nearly drops her cup, head snapping up. “Please tell me you did not touch Loki’s neck.”

“I could, but…”

Freya sighs, shoulders slumping and shakes her head. “You did. I should have guessed this would happen and attempted to warn you beforehand.”

“Can you tell me what it means? Did I break our engagement or something? I’ve been trying to figure it out, but I’ve got zero information to use in rationalize what few variables I have.”

“Tell me, what have you noticed about Loki’s skin. Besides that it is blue,” she adds as soon as Tony opens his mouth, causing them to share a smirk for a moment.

“Well,” Tony says slowly, dragging up the memory of his fingers sliding over cold flesh, “it’s thicker, not as much give to it.”

“Exactly.” Freya pauses to take a sip of her mocha, her face brightening as the warmth hits her tongue. “The exception would be their necks.”

It takes Tony a beat of silence before he gets it. “It’s their vulnerable spot.”

“ _Most_ vulnerable,” Freya emphasizes. “Jotun do not usually allow anyone to touch their necks. It is a rare event even among spouses. It is their deepest show of trust, and most intimate act to allow someone to do so. If you had been in Jotunheim, Loki would have been considered well within his rights to kill you.”

“Ah…okay then, no neck touching. Anything else I should know so I’m not insulting an entire nation?”

There is laughter beside them, like the chime you get when flicking a nail against an icicle. Tony looks up to see a six foot tall woman, with waist length dark hair and emerald eyes that seem much too old for her face. “Teaching him the customs of Jotunheim?”

Tony is about to ask who she is, but Freya answers for him when she bows her head and stands to find another chair for the woman. “My Queen, I was not expecting you.”

Tony gives a long and low impressed whistle. “That is quite the transformation.”

Fárbauti graces him with a satisfied smirk. Tony can see a lot of Fárbauti in Loki. The Queen however has had her own brand of mischief tempered into something more mature by time. “Making myself appear Midgardian is not difficult. It is much easier to rearrange a self into something smaller as opposed to larger.” (Of course, what Tony doesn’t know is that Fárbauti is actually around eight feet tall at the moment, and using an illusion to mask her true height.) Fárbauti leans forward and steals the cookie Tony has been picking at. “So, what brought on this curiosity?”

“Tony accidentally insulted Loki, and he would prefer not to do so again…I believe.” There’s a bit of Loki in Freya too.

Fárbauti’s eyes do not lose the mischievous spark, but they certainly harden around the edges. “How?”

“Neck,” Freya offers before Tony can protest. He doesn’t really want to have a conversation with his future mother-in-law about how he had, by her culture’s standards, violated his fiancé.

“Ah,” Fárbauti replies, somehow packing the weight of ages of wisdom into one syllable. “Yes, better you learn of this now rather than on Jotunheim.”

Okay, so apparently he’s not going to be flayed alive, but Fárbauti is definitely judging him right now. “All right, question. This neck thing…”

“It’s more powerful than the word ‘love’,” Fárbauti says, cutting him off. “I did not allow Laufey to touch mine until after our third child was born.”

“Um, okay, wow.” That kind of puts things into perspective. Tony mentally groans, wondering yet again just what he has gotten himself into.

“Is there anything else you’d like to know before leaving tomorrow?” Fárbauti asks.

“Tomorrow!” Tony stares at her wide eyed. “No one told me we were leaving tomorrow.”

“It was just decided. I am sure Agent Coulson will call you soon to inform you. Until then…” the queen prompts.

Tony thinks for a minute, pushing away the freak out his brain is telling him to do given that _he is going to a different world_. “Yeah. Loki said I was going to be presented to Laufey. How’s that going to work?”

“Firstly, you will use his title,” Freya answers. “The informal way you Midgardians refer to each other here is fine, but while on Jotunheim you will be expected to show the respect that is considered appropriate for that realm.”

“Okay. I can handle that.” Tony is totally responsible enough not to call Laufey by a nickname…in public.

Fárbauti chuckles as if she has read Tony’s thoughts. For all he knows she has, which reminds him, he really needs to figure out if Loki and Fárbauti are capable of that. “As for the actual presentation, there will be two, a private and a public ceremony. The private meeting will come first. It will serve both as a rehearsal for the public, and allowing Laufey to judge if you are worthy of marrying his son. Do not misjudge it, this meeting is more important than the public ceremony. If you make it to that, everyone will know you have already gained Laufey’s approval, and everything will just be for show.”

“At the public presentation, you and Loki will also be considered married from that point forward,” Freya adds.

“Wait, I’m supposed to get married without anyone I know there, in a land I’ve never been to before? Not gonna lie, kind of feeling like a Disney princess again,” Tony complains, slumping in his seat.

Both women laugh, sharing a glance that Tony is pretty sure means they are both finding amusement in his misery. “We will return you to Midgard for a ceremony in your world as well. Jotun simply do not allow time to pass between the engagement becoming official and the wedding like you Midgardians do. Once the commitment is made, there is no breaking it.”

Tony forces himself to take a deep breath and nods. “Right. I can handle that. I can totally handle that.” He can’t handle that. He is so screwed. Holy shit, why had he agreed to this? Why can’t he go back to not knowing there were aliens intent on screwing up his life? Tony tries, and only just fails, at suppressing a groan.

Fárbauti and Freya also fail at hiding their pitying looks. “It will be all right, Tony,” Freya tries to reassure him. “Loki is, well, Loki; but I believe you two are uniquely compatible.”

Tony wants to believe her, but he’s beginning to think that this whole thing is going to end very, very badly.

/

“S’no! Wha!” Tony snorts, twisting in his sheets while still half asleep, looking for the thing that woke him in the first place. “Lokes?” he grumbles when he sees two red eyes blinking down at him. The Jotun Prince is sitting beside him, the fury from their last meeting now absent. “Wha’s goin’ on?” Tony tries to wake himself up, gives up, and ends up curled up around Loki’s long legs. If he had been more awake he would have been horrified at the pleased noises that escape his mouth when Loki’s fingers brush through his hair, but as it is, he isn’t, so he cannot bring himself to care.

“It is time to depart, my Tony.”

Oh. Well, that’s a good way to get him up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're going to Jotunheim! Finally!


	14. Travel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The castle's name is taken from Thor: Season One.

Jotunheim is fucking cold. Tony hunches further into his thick coat, casting an absolutely miserable look in Loki’s direction. Loki meanwhile, ignores him while taking over the spell Thrym had cast moments earlier to keep them warm. Loki’s greater magical skill is immediately noticeable as the cold no longer makes Tony want to cling to Loki and whine.

It turns out that the solution to the whole ‘who gets to go to the off world winter wonderland?’ problem, was solved when Fárbauti decided to stay behind with Freya to help work out troop and supply movement. That had opened up the one spot needed to stop the argument, so long as Tony didn’t involve himself in the political meetings. Apparently the whole problem had come down to choosing which four of the Big Five would get to go. Everyone else had argued that Tony could serve as the American representative, but Owens had immediately balked at the idea. Tony had been given just enough time to grab a bag, which Loki had apparently packed for him while he slept, before being swept away to Loki’s home world. (Tony had thought about it, and in the end decided it was creepy but cultural differences rendered it excusable.) Now he is left standing in the middle of a snow drift with two frost giants, an imprisoned Asgardian, and five politicians, waiting for…something.

 There comes a howl on the wind, which sends a shiver down Tony’s spine. Next to him the politicians huddle closer together. “Uh, babe..?” Tony voices as five looming shapes walk out of the gloom.

“My Tony,” Loki says, his voice full of fondness, “meet my grandchildren.” The two white wolves move to their grandfather, and Tony swears if wolves could smile then that’s what they were doing. The smaller of the two, which isn’t saying much as both are nearly as tall as Thrym, noses against Loki’s shoulder like an oversized puppy. Is it weird that Loki has grandchildren? Yes. Is it weird that they are giant wolves? Totally. And yet it seems appropriate because it is Loki.

Thrym grabs the back of Thor’s armor and lifts him up onto the back of the larger wolf. The wolf bears his burden, but turns to glare at Thor with raised hackles. The giant moves off to help the politicians onto their own mounts, which look like mutant lizards covered in frost. Tony is going to have to ask about that later, because those reptiles plus cold together do not make sense. The smaller wolf lies down, allowing Loki access to his back. Tony has his doubts about riding around on the creature, but it’s either that or saying in the snow. Not really that hard of a choice.

When the wolf stands and starts forward, Tony latches onto Loki for dear life. He thought it would be like riding a horse. It’s not even close. Loki’s chuckle is audible even over the wind. Tony squeezes Loki’s hips in a promise of retaliation, which only makes Loki laugh louder.

They couldn’t have traveled for more than ten minutes before coming across a city of ice and ruins. Loki guides the party straight through, the crumbling buildings blocking the wind enough for everyone to hear Loki explain, “This was once the first city to greet visitors to Jotunheim. It was also the first to fall when Asgard came.”

“I thought this war of yours happened a thousand years ago,” a heavily accented Russian voice says.

“The last battle was a thousand years ago, but the war continued,” Thrym’s deep voice echoes off the ruins when he answers. “And even after so long this city could not be recovered. It became too dangerous to hold when the Asgardian youth decided to make a pastime out of hunting our kind.”

Thor yells something, but the gag in his mouth keeps it from being distinguishable. Loki rapidly turns to level glaring red eyes on the Asgardian. Thor doesn’t lose his stiff posture, but he does keep his mouth shut. “Do not even try to refute him, Prince.” Loki hisses the title like he has poison in his mouth. “Not so long ago you came here for that very purpose.”

Loki directs his wolf grandson through the ruins. It’s Tony’s theory that Loki very easily could have dropped them off somewhere closer to their destination, but he wants them to see this, to see the destruction Asgard is capable of. The city had obviously once been beautiful. It isn’t hard to see New York or D.C. or Malibu destroyed like this. He imagines it’s not too hard for the politicians to be imagining their own cities in a similar fashion. It was a risk to show them this weakness of Jotunheim, but from the looks on the other humans’ faces, Loki’s plan has paid off.

He is only too happy when they finally reach the edge of the city. Loki turns back to him with a grin, and Tony has two thoughts. One, _Uh-oh,_ followed immediately by, _This is going to be fun._ Loki’s heels press against the sides of the wolf, who shoots off across the frozen tundra. Tony hears the politicians shouting, and the loud thump, thump, thump of Thrym’s own running footsteps behind them. Tony laughs against Loki’s shoulder blade, and moulds himself against Loki’s back, settling in for the ride.

Tony has no idea how long they ride, maybe half a day or more. (It is actually only three hours, Tony is just impatient and tells himself it’s longer.) Eventually a grand castle rises out of the snow. (Tony is almost convinced they’re just using the snow for dramatic effect at this point.) It is built in the form of a spire, its base so wide Tony can’t even begin to judge its true size. He can’t see how far up it goes either, as the spire winds its way up into the clouds. It’s marvelous, with arches looking out over the tundra, stones worn smooth and giving the whole castle the appearance of being made from running water.

“Welcome to Castle Gastropnir,” Loki says, voice smooth in Tony’s ear. He is obviously proud to have left Tony speechless with the sight of his home. “If you are done staring, we shall go inside.”

“Don’t let me stop you,” Tony answers, voice muffled by the many layers of clothing he has donned.

Loki rolls his eyes even as he directs the wolf toward the castle entrance. His grandson gracefully lowers himself again, allowing them to dismount. Tony ignores the stares from the guards, focused only on getting inside. Not even Loki’s spell can hold back the cold forever, and he is _freezing!_ He sighs in relief once there are solid walls around him blocking out the wind. It’s still cold though, and he tells Loki as much.

“My poor Tony,” Loki says with a mocking pout. “You have no patience at all.”

“I’m cold!” Tony whines again, the politicians rushing through the door in their effort to find some warmth as well. Owens looks like she’s been motion sick their entire ride and is about to collapse.

“Follow,” Loki commands, striding off without waiting to see if they obey.

Tony shrugs and does so. After all, there’s no real advantage in not doing so. Loki leads them to a set of stone doors, decorated in a scene of some long ago battle. The passage through the door is lit with blue flickering torches. Their fires give off no warmth, but as the passage slopes down the cold does become more bearable. After a few minutes Tony feels warm enough to take off his coat, the politicians doing so as well. “Hot springs,” Loki explains. “The Asgardians took an artifact from us before they left, which we used to keep the worst of the blizzards at bay. Without it, we have been forced to expand through a system of tunnels. These specific ones are used for our guests who are less adaptable to the cold. Your rooms are all next to each other,” he says to the politicians, stopping and pointing to the five doors in the hall. “You may choose among yourselves which ones you would like. You,” he says with a purr, turning back to Tony, “are further down.”

“Oooh, special treatment?” Tony jokes, eyebrows wiggling up and down. He follows along as Loki turns a corner.

“I sent orders ahead to have your rooms outfitted with special…enhancements,” Loki shoots back, sounding almost thoughtful. Before Tony can ask with what, Loki opens a door, revealing a large chamber. Tony has stayed in a lot of nice places before, but this room leaves no doubt that he is a guest of royalty. Shit, he’s marrying into royalty.

“They are not what you are used to, but I thought you might have fun playing with the Jotunheim equivalent.” Loki pulls him through the entrance hall toward another room. Tony catches a brief glimpse of the bedroom through another archway, and wow, that bed looks comfortable. And then he’s in another chamber, and it doesn’t take Tony long to realize Loki has turned it into a lab. He doesn’t recognize most of the equipment, but that doesn’t change the fact that _Loki made him a lab!_

He barely manages to keep himself from jumping up and down in excitement. Loki wraps his arms around Tony’s shoulders. There’s a brush of coolness as Loki’s lips ghost over his cheek, and Loki’s laughter is in his ear. “I fear you will have to wait to play, my Tony. My father wishes to see you as soon as you make yourself presentable.”

Loki has this really horrible habit of making his emotions do flip flops. Tony isn’t fond of anyone having that kind of power over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a lot of action, but I felt this chapter was necessary, instead of just dropping them off right at the castle.


End file.
